


Recess

by frenchpirate (Whiskey_n_speed)



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskey_n_speed/pseuds/frenchpirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey likes keeping to himself and staying invisible but sometimes things doesn't really go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recess

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this](http://pikey.co.vu/post/82221387441/omfg-you-should-write-one-where-pete-keeps-getting) anonymous prompt, hope you enjoy !! xx

Mikey Way mostly kept to himself in school. He had his Discman and his lunch money and his naturally quiet and discreet approach to almost everything that came his way. He always sat in the back of the classroom, and was convinced that half of his classmates didn’t know what he looked like behind beanies pulled all the way down to his eyes and constantly fogged up glasses and clothes three sizes too big. 

He was kind of clumsy and oddly built, often stumbling over his own feet or hitting his head on doorframes when he got too distracted by his thoughts. He wasn’t very good at sports either, nor was he very confident or artistic, and all in all he considered himself a pretty average guy, that even the friendliest people wouldn’t want to talk to for extended periods. So he kept to himself, and mostly everybody else caught his invisibility-vibes and left him alone. 

Of course, there was the mandatory high school shove-the-nerd jocks that occasionally pushed him into his locker or stole his seat at the lunch tables, but it was nothing that he couldn’t ignore in the long run. Gerard always said he should fight back, and sounded mostly like he’d stepped right out of The French Revolution. Mikey liked to imagine him wearing a dramatic Napoleon-looking hat, right until he remembered all the history assignments that he hadn’t turned in on time. If he flunked he would have a hard time explaining it to his mom.

 

Mellon Collie was a pretty long album, and he’d figured that he could only listen through half of it in his lunch break if he didn’t want to be severely late for his next period, and mostly he didn’t, so he switched back and forth between the first and second disc.   
Except today he was hiding in the last toilet stalls in the boy’s bathroom in the right wing hallway, and not sitting quietly in his usual corner of the cafeteria. And his backpack was still in his biology class, so he didn’t have his Discman either, which left him with reading the graffiti written on the back of the door as his only option for entertainment. 

If he looked closely he was pretty sure he could spot an old and faded ‘Jared is a faggot’ right below the upper hinge, and sighed. If he’d had a pen with him he would’ve drawn something over it, or at least corrected his brother’s name. But he didn’t because he’d been in a hurry. 

Pete Wentz had called his name, and not only was he one of the remotely talented jocks that looked so much like a stereotype bully that Mikey was afraid he’d get shoved just by looking at him, but he’d also cornered Mikey today while he was putting his bio notes in his locker. They’d been completely alone in the hallway, because Mikey was so slow at packing up his stuff and getting to his locker that everyone else was already at lunch when he was done. 

He had sent Pete Wentz one frightened look and then powerwalked aggressively in the other direction to not seem to obviously much like he was fleeing, but still getting to a safe distance fast enough for Pete to not find something to find him shove-able for.

 

When lunch was over, he went back to biology to pick up his bag and hurried to his next class, where he had a hard time focusing since he was kind of really dependent on his midday meal. Mostly just because he didn’t want to get out of bed in the mornings, and then he only had time to quickly drown a single mug of coffee before he had to head out for the bus.

 

On his way home that afternoon, he deemed himself safe and put in his earbuds and turned up his music. He had plenty of time, his bus wouldn’t come in another ten minutes, so he sat back on the bench at the bus stop and closed his eyes. It was almost May so it was warm and his hoodie would start sticking to his back with sweat if he kept sitting like this, but he liked being covered up, so he’d rather be gross than taking it off. Whatever, he came from a family of weird priorities.

 

“Pssst.” 

Mikey opened his eyes and frowned. There was no one in his line of sight but there had most definitely been a sound. 

“ _Hey_.” Someone called vaguely, and Mikey turned around to spot a silhouette underneath a tree down by the fence that surrounded the school. 

“What?” Mikey called and slowly pulled one of his earbuds out. The shadow waved at him, and from where Mikey was sitting it looked suspiciously much like- 

“Come _here_.” It hissed, and yeah, it was definitely Pete Wentz that was calling for him, as if lunch hadn’t been enough. And now he didn’t even have anywhere to hide.

Maybe it was because he was running low on food, or maybe because he did come from a family of weird priorities, but after a couple of moments more of frantic calling and waving he got up and walked over to where Pete was standing. 

“Are you gonna shove me?” He asked bluntly, and Pete crossed his arms, like Mikey had offended him. Mikey didn’t know if he was missing something important, because he didn’t really understand what was going on and it seemed like he was supposed to. So he just stared at Pete, whose shirt was buttoned unevenly and who had a small zit above his eyebrow. One of his shoelaces were also untied. He looked like a bully to Mikey. 

“I’ve never shoved you.” Pete said and stared at Mikey, as if he was daring Mikey to disagree. 

“I wouldn’t know. Lots of people shove me.” Mikey shrugged and then Pete shrugged too. 

“Well, I’ve never shoved you.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.” Mikey stated and then quickly looked back at the bus stop. “My bus is going t-“ 

“I need your help.” Pete cut in, and it was like it had been supposed to come out as a question, but Mikey didn’t really feel like he had a choice. 

“Why?”

“Because I have this vision in which you won’t think I’m ridiculous. I tried to ask you during lunch but you disappeared.” Pete explained, and Mikey frowned because that didn’t really make sense to him at all. 

“I was hiding.”

“Why?” Pete asked and looked slightly worried, like people hiding during recess was something he’d never encountered before, which would be really strange considering he was attending a public school. 

“Because I thought you’d shove me.” 

“I won’t shove you. I want your help.”

“With what?” He said, because Pete had kind of caught his attention. People rarely talked to him, not to mention showed any interest in him personally. He pulled out his other earbud and waited for Pete to tell him.

 

Mikey was standing really still, holding tightly onto the ladder that Pete was standing on. The back of his ankles were right in front of Mikeys eyes, and he was seriously scared that if they both fell over Pete would kick him in the eye. 

“We’ll get detention.” Mikey mumbled frightened, while he heard Pete clicking around with the lock to the window above them. “They’ll call my mom.” 

“Only if they catch us.” Pete assured, which didn’t really help the tight feeling in Mikeys stomach, which was no longer just because he’d skipped lunch. He asked himself why he even agreed to do this in the first place because it was clearly both dangerous and stupid, and he’d also missed his bus and he still didn’t have any food. 

“How do you know he’s not still in there?” Mikey asked and Pete twisted his upper body around to look down at Mikey. 

“He always leaves early on Thursdays.”

“Oh.” Mikey said and sunk back into silence while Pete tried and unlock the window.

 

It was a commonly known fact that the art teacher had pot somewhere in his office, at least if the smell of the canvases the art class used and the color of his eyes were something to go by, but Mikey had never really thought more about it until Pete stood with glowing eyes and explained that he’d discovered by accident that he had a drawer in his desk that were always locked. Mikey didn’t even ask how Pete had ‘accidentally’ ended up in the art teachers office alone, because to him there was no reason to make the whole situation seem more unbelievable than it already was. 

“Tell me again why any of your friends couldn’t just help you?” Mikey mumbled as he almost lost balance while following Pete up the ladder and through the window. 

“ _Because_ ,” Pete said as if Mikey was either deliberately not listening or just incredibly slow. “They’re all crazy anti-smoking warriors. They think if they light one cigarette they’ll be banned from playing sports forever.” 

“Do you think I’m a pothead?” Mikey frowned as he planted his feet on the floor and was face to face with Pete, who looked like he blushed a little in the dim lights, which was kind of amusing to Mikey because Pete definitely wasn’t the type of guy to blush. Mikey didn’t know if he had a reputation, and in that case what it was. He guessed that pothead wasn’t the worst he could be nicknamed. Gerard had had it far worse, at least. 

“Well – no. You just seemed cooler about that kind of stuff.” Pete excused with a small shrug. 

“Huh.” Mikey huffed, and after another moment Pete headed over to the desk where there indeed was a drawer with a small lock underneath the handle, and Mikey stared as Pete fished the bunch of keys that he had somehow acquired during the day out of his pocket and started trying out each key in the lock. 

“Why do you smoke pot if none of your friends do?” Mikey asked casually and sat down at the opposite end of the desk, feet dangling over the edge. Pete didn’t look up as he answered, but stared down at the keys. 

“Because they only care about sports. I care about tons of other things too.” He mumbled. 

“Like what?” 

“Like music. And Star Wars. And poetry. _And_ pot.” Pete laughed, and Mikey felt the corner of his mouth twist upwards for the first time that day. The drawer clicked loudly, and Pete triumphantly pulled it open, revealing a bunch of papers and pens lying messily on the bottom of the drawer. 

“I like Star Wars too.” Mikey said even though it was kind of pointless. 

“I figured. You wear a Han Solo shirt sometimes.” Pete said as he flashed Mikey a grin and pulled out a small plastic bag from between some of the papers, which looked mostly like art essays from some of the students. Mikey wondered why he hadn’t signed up for art class this year.

 

Later, they were lying side by side in the grass behind the soccer field, and Mikey thought about how his mom would probably be mad at him for coming home so much later than usual, but he also thought about how he didn’t really care right now.

“I’m hungry.” Mikey said, staring up at the clouds that were lazily dragging themselves across the light blue sky. He still hadn’t eaten but he was kind of really high right now so it seemed less important. 

“I’ve got snickerdoodles. They’re really good, I’m just not popular enough to be the guy that eats homemade baked goods at lunch.” Pete grinned and reached out to search through his messenger bag for a while before handing Mikey a bag of cookies. 

“You get high with faggot Jared’s nerdy kid brother after class. I think that’s worse than eating snickerdoodles.” Mikey replied while opening the bag and shoving an entire cookie in his mouth before handing back the bag to Pete who did the same. Then he laughed because saying snickerdoodles repeatedly and then eating one right after smoking the art teachers entire stash of pot kind of messed up his head. 

“I think you’re cool.” Pete confessed. “You don’t really care about anything.” 

“I care about music and Star Wars and poetry and pot.” He recited and then Pete giggled for three minutes straight.

 

“Thank you, by the way, for helping me.” Pete said earnestly when they were sitting at the bus stop. It was getting darker, and the intervals between each bus was getting longer and longer. Mikey didn’t know for sure, but he was fairly certain there was at least half an hour until the next one arrived. It was kind of weird to sit here and wait for it with a jock who he hadn’t even interacted with until today, but it had none the less been a pleasant surprise considering that otherwise he would’ve been sitting at home watching reruns of old tv-shows that was probably already imprinted on the inside of his skull from watching them too much. He wondered if Pete ever felt like his life was like a really slow merry-go-round. 

“Anytime.”

 

When Pete leaned over and kissed his cheek, the only thing Mikey could think about was how he’d had a friend in 6th grade who read weird European teenage comics, and there was a scene like this in one of them, so it took a while for him to react. 

“Why’d you do that?” He finally asked, turning his head to look at Pete who was just sitting next to him without really doing anything except staring at Mikey. 

“Because – I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Just because.” 

“Cool.” Mikey nodded. “You could do it again, y’know, just because.” 

“Only if you turn your head too this time.” He declared, but leaned in a pushed his lips quick and dry to Mikeys before he could even look away anyways. Mikey made a hiccupping sound in surprise, and Pete couldn’t help but giggle so hard that it was Mikey who then had to lean in and catch Petes mouth with his own.   
If someone had told him this morning while he was hiding in the furthest bathroom stall that before midnight he would be kissing Pete Wentz at the bus stop, he would’ve laughed at them, because all his life he had mostly kept to himself, even though it got kind of boring in the long run. 

But then Pete ran his hand up underneath the back of Mikeys shirt and mumbled ‘see you tomorrow’ into his mouth when the bus came, and he figured that keeping to himself kind of sucked compared to that.


End file.
